Маленький лорд Фаунтлерой
Chapter XI
Aftertwoorthreeweeks,however,duringwhich,insteadofgettingbetter,mattersreallygrewworse,anovelplanslowlyanddeliberatelydawneduponhim.HewouldgotoseeDick.Hesmokedagreatmanypipesbeforehearrivedattheconclusion,butfinallyhedidarriveatit.HewouldgotoseeDick.HeknewallaboutDick.Cedrichadtoldhim,andhisideawasthatperhapsDickmightbesomecomforttohiminthewayoftalkingthingsover.
SoonedaywhenDickwasveryhardatworkblackingacustomer’sboots,ashort,stoutmanwithaheavyfaceandabaldheadstoppedonthepavementandstaredfortwoorthreeminutesatthebootblack’ssign,whichread:
“PROFESSORDICKTIPTONCAN’TBEBEAT.”
HestaredatitsolongthatDickbegantotakealivelyinterestinhim,andwhenhehadputthefinishingtouchtohiscustomer’sboots,hesaid:
“Wantashine,sir?”
Thestoutmancameforwarddeliberatelyandputhisfootontherest.
“Yes,”hesaid.
ThenwhenDickfelltowork,thestoutmanlookedfromDicktothesignandfromthesigntoDick.
“Wheredidyougetthat?”heasked.
“Fromafriendo’mine,”saidDick,—“alittlefeller.Heguv’methewholeoutfit.Hewasthebestlittlefelleryeeversaw.He’sinEnglandnow.Gonetobeoneo’themlords.”
“Lord—Lord—”askedMr.Hobbs,withponderousslowness,“LordFauntleroy—Goin’tobeEarlofDorincourt?”
Dickalmostdroppedhisbrush.
“Why,boss!”heexclaimed,“d’yeknowhimyerself?”
“I’veknownhim,”answeredMr.Hobbs,wipinghiswarmforehead,“eversincehewasborn.
